


Pretty Thing

by bravinto



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Body Image, Body Worship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, Multi, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5477003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravinto/pseuds/bravinto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Oh, it’s hot alright. It’s pretty much a live action of Foggy’s months-long wet dreams. Two extremely attractive people are making out eagerly on his couch, and the sense of urgency in his pants is growing pleasantly, right as he accidentally catches a glimpse of his reflection in the glass door of his bar cabinet, and it all goes to hell.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>or Foggy's confidence suffered as a result of a past incident, but his friends might be able to help him with that</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [terpsichorean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/terpsichorean/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, dear terpsichorean! Your prompt was a treat to work with! I tried to incorporate several elements you mentioned into my fic, and I hope it delivers.  
> Hope you enjoy it! <3

If you ask Foggy what he expected of this night, he’ll answer that he expected fun. The easy-going fun that he usually manages to inflict upon his friends (with a margin for surprises, of course, because you never know when a certain someone is going to backflip away to rescue a kitten from a tree, but still). A kinda half-assed yet delicious dinner at his place, beers. Karen’s flushed face and sparkling eyes, Matt’s full-body laughter. Hot breath on his face, swaying hips under his hands. A caress, a bite, a moan. And it was all going according to the plan up until now. Because right now Foggy is experiencing a mid-scale level of freak out at the sight of Karen fervently unbuttoning Matt’s shirt.

Oh, it’s hot alright. It’s pretty much a live action of Foggy’s months-long wet dreams. Two extremely attractive people are making out eagerly on his couch, and the sense of urgency in his pants is growing pleasantly, right as he accidentally catches a glimpse of his reflection in the glass door of his bar cabinet, and it all goes to hell.

The worst thing is that he’s not even wearing his presentable clothes, nicely colored shirts or funny ties that make him look stylish; nah, it’s just an old stretched hoodie over an equally old and washed out t-shirt. His hair is still in a messy bun he put on for cooking, some of it sticking up with static electricity after fooling around on the couch. He looks down, and yes, a pair of sweats and bunny slippers do nothing to compliment his figure. There is nothing even remotely sexual in this image, and he watches with a frozen feeling in his stomach how the years of building up confidence and fake-it-till-you-make-it are shattered in a single moment.

It all flashes in front of his eyes: Karen’s swift willowy figure, her golden hair and Renaissance face; the carved marble of Matt’s body under the thin layer of his black vigilante shirt; how Matt always seems to flirt with the prettiest girl; how Karen asked him if Matt dated a lot; then suddenly - the pretty, popular Paul Lindsen dancing with him all night, waiting for him around the corners and bringing him chocolates, Paul Lindsen’s exhilarating whisper teasing and promising _more_ , Paul Lindsen playing him for weeks, pretending to like him, Paul Lindsen spending a lot of time in Matt’s and Foggy’s room even when Foggy wasn’t there, getting chummy with Matt (Foggy actually felt happy that they were getting along, that Matt loosened up with someone else for a change, god _dammit_ ). Waking up with a hangover one morning to find out that, after Foggy passed out the night before, Paul Lindsen tried to sleep with Matt and even offered to date him and was kicked out - or, rather, fled (Matt was horrifyingly livid for days). In the end, Foggy didn’t confront him, because there wasn’t anything to say, really. People try to get to the unsociable Murdock through Foggy all the time, and the other half of the why, well… it’s not surprising, he thinks as he meets his reflection’s eyes.

“You look like that creepy fat guy who goes to buy beer at a night store at three in the morning because you let your life go downhill,” he tells himself silently. “The only thing missing is a wifebeater.”

He wishes he could disappear from the room (or maybe altogether) without anyone noticing. Too late.

“Matt?” Karen asks, when Matt stops kissing her and turns to do that stare-like thing when he focuses on something.

“Foggy?” Matt says, concerned, because surely Foggy must have been transmitting all sorts of upset signals for the last several seconds.

“Uh,” Foggy says intelligently.

“What? What happened?” Karen looks between them, confused.

“I, um. ‘M not feeling too hot. You guys continue, I’ll go lie down for a bit in the peace and quiet?” he offers lamely as he backs away in the direction of the bedroom.

He’s not sure if what he said is the truth or the lie, and what they will take it for. Maybe he’ll be able to pass it off as a random anxiety attack. Maybe not. Either way, facing it right now is more than he can handle, so he just. Closes the door and lies down on the bed and tries to breathe past the lump in his throat.

He was allowed to flee, but it doesn’t sound like Matt and Karen are getting back to sexytimes. He hears quiet voices from the living room, most likely discussing him. He wonders, as he stares at the ceiling, eyes adjusting to the dark, how it would be to have Matt’s ears for once, and cringes. He probably wouldn’t want to know what is being said, even though he doubts Matt and Karen would badmouth him. The panicked feeling begins to lift, leaving him embarrassed and miserable.

“Ugh,” he groans, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow.

Totally overreacted, Nelson. This was only supposed to be a fun night making out and fooling around as the freshly baked threesome that they are. Good job ruining the weekend.

 

The front door opens and closes with a click, and then there is silence. A heavy cold ball of lead sinks deep in his gut. Would they just leave, now that he’s not fun anymore, because let’s face it, being fun is Foggy’s selling point. Would they leave just like that, without saying anything. To go enjoy the night elsewhere. Like the hot attractive people that they are.

But then there is a scratching noise at the bedroom door, and Matt’s head peeks inside.

“Fo… Foggy, may I?” he asks, uncertain, and Foggy mentally kicks himself for thinking that low of his friends.

“Yeah,” he says.

Matt enters and climbs onto the bed, crawling up to lie down face to face with him. It feels like Columbia times, when they would have long philosophical discussions way into the early hours - usually drunk, sometimes sober, and, on one memorable occasion, high on green pills somebody gave them at a frat party. Good days, fond memories.

“Are you okay?” Matt says.

The darkness is transparent, the dim glow of the city behind the window reflects in Matt’s eyes and brings out the fine outlines of his face. He’s beautiful.

“Eh, not particularly,” Foggy confesses with a sigh. “Where’s Karen? Did she leave? Or you sent her away?”

“No. She offered to go get some cake. I told her tiramisu is your favorite.”

Foggy can’t help smirking at that. Give it to Karen to do the smart thing, to find an excuse and leave them alone, to figure out that Foggy would feel most comfortable around his friend of many years.

“That, my friend, is correct,” he says, and fails to bite back: “though cake is the last thing I should be having right now.”

“Why?”

Foggy sighs, finding no words to answer that. Matt leans forward, and they slide into an embrace easily, like the thousand times before. It is comforting, even though Foggy feels tension in Matt’s arms.

“What happened, Foggy? What is it?” Matt asks, a desperate note in his voice.

He’s so sensitive, Foggy thinks, and yet he has trouble reading the feelings behind people’s reactions. No wonder he’s always so freaked out. Foggy rubs Matt’s back a little, automatically: soothing Matt has become his second nature.

“Well, it is…” he starts, then cuts himself short, because he kinda knows what Matt is gonna get like. “Okay, first of all, disclaimer: I do not think or feel about you or Karen in any way comparable to the undermentioned subject, nor do I imply that any of your actions could cause such a response. There. But I may or may not have had a major Paul Lindsen moment just now.”

Predictably, Matt goes into a battle stance - well, as much of a battle stance as you can exhibit while cuddling your buddy in bed.

“Foggy, I…” he begins.

“I know. You didn’t do anything wrong, and neither did Karen. I think it’s just that Paul Lindsen episode delivered a good blow to my body image.”

At that Matt wraps around him protectively and growls something into his hair that sounds like a promise to tear Lindsen’s head off if he ever dares to cross their way. As a rule, Foggy does not condone violence or shotgun protectiveness, but just this once it warms his heart to know that Matt got his back, both as himself and as Daredevil.

“As far as I remember, you tore him a new one as it were, in mock trial.”

“I tried my best,” Matt says humbly.

They both laugh, and Foggy definitely feels better now.

“Foggy,” Matt says, sobering up. “You are amazing and beautiful. This is how we see you and this is the truth.”

“Usually I manage,” Foggy sighs. “It’s just, today it suddenly got hard to believe.”

“If it helps at all, Karen talks about you when she’s with me as much as she talks about me when she’s with you.”

“That… does sound good.”

Matt lets go of him and perks up.

“Karen is coming,” he says. “Do you feel like going back there?”

“Yeah.”

Matt climbs off the bed and pulls him up. When they return to the living room, Foggy blinks against the orange light of his floor lamp. He tugs the band off his hair and examines his face in the mirror: it doesn’t look like he’s been crying (he might have, a little). A minute later there’s a knock.

When he opens the door, Karen hugs him and kisses his cheeks.

“You feeling better?” she asks.

“Yes,” he says. “As soon as I heard the word ‘cake’, my vigor returned.”

 

When all three of them settle on the couch again and eat cake (though it’s mostly Foggy being fed and hugged from either side), Karen asks:

“Are you okay, though? What happened?” and it doesn’t sound like she’s going to let it go.

Karen Page never lets go, and she deserves to be told the truth anyway, after all the lies they told her in the past.

“Well, this is embarrassing,” he says, resigned. “Body image issues?.. Basically, you both are incredibly hot and I felt like a lump.”

“Foggy had some bad experience,” Matt adds darkly.

“Yeah, someone was a huge jerk to me once. I try not to let it bother me, but today got kinda ruined because of that.”

“Foggy Nelson,” Karen says, taking hold of his head and bringing it close to her whispering lips, “you are an amazing and unique person, and you are hot as hell.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. Me and that gentleman over there can barely resist the urge to climb you like a tree.”

Foggy laughs and hugs them both close.

“I love you guys, you know that?”

Karen looks at him, a sudden sly spark in her eyes.

“Who said today is ruined? It’s not even eleven yet.”

Matt feels his watch and smiles.

“True. Maybe we could still rescue it.”

“I know things like that can be hard to believe,” Karen says and puts a hand on Foggy’s chest. “Even if you realize this logically. What if we show you?”

“How?”

“Would you mind undressing for us?” Karen says, as bold as ever.

And well, if his friends are so brave, why can’t Foggy be, too?

 

This is how Foggy ends up sprawled on the couch, absolutely naked. His head and shoulders are resting in Karen’s lap, and Matt is sitting between his legs. He feels open and vulnerable, yes, but the feeling of inadequacy he was dreading doesn’t come. Four hands are rubbing his chest and belly gently, it’s relaxing and even more so - exciting.

Karen bends down to kiss him, her mouth is hot and her soft breasts bump into his head when she leans.

“You are so hot, Foggy,” she whispers as her fingers start combing through Foggy’s hair.

“I can tell you a secret,” Matt says, nuzzling the inner side of Foggy’s knee. “I remember the first time you hugged me.”

“Yeah?” Foggy asks, a little breathless, because, well. It’s a good picture.

“Yeah,” Matt looks down, and his face shows something between playful and shy. “I didn’t expect it and you took me by surprise. I was startled, but I still got the impression of what it feels like. To hold you.”

He runs his hand up Foggy’s thigh and rubs light, ticklish circles with his fingertips on Foggy’s hip. Both his words and the sensation send a shiver all through Foggy’s body.

“I felt how warm and soft and comforting you are. I’ve been dreaming about your body since then,” Matt continues as he reaches beneath and grabs handfuls of Foggy’s love handles. “At night, across the dorm room from you, I used to imagine what it would feel like to crawl into your bed and cling to you. To feel your skin against mine.”

At that Karen actually lets out a moan and pulls harder on Foggy’s hair. He feels her legs flex under him, and she sits a little wider. He turns his head to nuzzle her hip; he can’t smell her arousal just yet, but Matt must be able to, because he takes a noisy breath and squeezes Foggy’s sides. Karen’s hands, no longer cold, let go of his locks and slide down his shoulders onto his chest, circling around his nipples.

“Matthew, this is so… uh, creepy,” he says fondly. “Tell me more?”

Karen’s hair is tickling his neck; he looks up - her face is red, lips parted, she’s looking at him with a raw, hungry expression, and her nails drag on his skin as she kneads his boobs. Yeah, he’s definitely hard by now.

“I dreamed about running my hands all over you, feeling everything, the softest parts of your body, I… couldn’t imagine that those dreams might come true.”

Matt leans forward between his legs and buries his face in Foggy’s belly, rubbing his scratchy chin all over his sides and thighs. The beard burn might get itchy later, but right now it feels rough and awesome; and when Matt cups his ass and sucks a long, wet kiss on his navel, Foggy moans - no, whimpers and bucks his hips, trying to get some friction against his cock.

“Do you think you could come for us, pretty thing?” Karen asks.

“Aha,” he breathes out.

Finally, finally, Matt takes his cock in his hand and pumps up and down in a steady leisurely rhythm that Foggy starts rocking to.

“Could you describe him to me?” Matt asks.

“Oh, he’s beautiful,” says Karen, and Foggy moans. “Really pretty. All flushed pink, and his face is red, it’s adorable. Aww, he’s squeezing his eyes shut now and making the ‘o’ face. His skin is very smooth, but you can probably tell.”

“Yes,” Matt grins and runs his free hand over Foggy’s hip.

“His nips are super nice,” Karen says, licks a finger and teases his left nipple. “They are, like, super pink. And small. He’s gorgeous, moving in little thrusts, it’s a great sight…”

There is more, but Foggy can’t hear it over the thunder of his heartbeat as he comes and comes in waves. It both seems to take forever and be over too soon. In the end, he finds himself panting, kissed everywhere and cleaned up with a napkin Matt must have conjured out of thin air.

It’s probably time to start feeling embarrassed again, but he is so relaxed and satisfied that he just can’t find it in himself.

“Wow, that was awesome,” he says dreamily.

“Are you feeling better?” Karen says, helping Matt to wrap Foggy in his favorite blanket, another thing he doesn’t remember arriving at the scene.

“Oh I _was_ feeling better,” he answers from the depths of his newly formed cocoon and sits up. “Now I feel just awesome, to be honest.”

“Seems like we did a good job!”

“Definitely. I hope the effect lasts…”

“If you ever need us to remind you how beautiful you are, just tell us,” Matt says with a sincere expression on his face.

“Roger that. Do you guys want some of that sweet loving back?..”

“Maybe a bit later?” Karen gets up to inspect the plastic box she brought from the store earlier. “We have some cake left. Do we want to finish it off?”

“Yes!” Foggy and Matt shout in chorus from the couch.

Well, surprisingly enough. The night ended up being fun, after all, Foggy thinks, as his two best friends snuggle closer to him and get cake crumbs all over the couch.

 


End file.
